Faithful to uncertain clarity

Broken Jack Daniel’s

A dead butterfly lying besides a broken bottle of Jack Daniels, apart from the fact that you find them in a country where drinking is prohibited for 97% of its population, contains enough matter to make a person stop there and ponder whether the butterfly died of excessive intake of alcohol or this scene is just a mere coincidence; bringing bad name to the pious butterfly community.

There were one more thing that could have grabbed the interest of any curious being but i am sure that it had nothing to do with butterfly however it may have some connection with the bottle.

It was a sunny day and chilly breeze blew towards the west ruffling any hairstyle that came in its way. We would have never stopped here if the mechanic had not left the indicating gauges defective and hence the engine caught enough heat without any indication, drying the water in radiator. Fortunately we saw the smoke coming out of bonnet and halted before successfully making place in evening’s news.

And wow what a place it was. Truly worth stopping by. Enough beautiful to park your vehicle along the roadside and greet your lungs with some fresh air.

Though it was just an open area away from city, with no tuck shops and cafes to buy candy and take tea until you are ready to resume your journey but the same thing made it special. There was peace all around. Unabashed nature at display, and tranquility being tickled by early winter breeze.

At a distance there was a small stretch of hills and one of them was mounted with some Telecom towers, an arrant mismatch. Although these metallic giants were ensuring signal strength in the area and we also used their service to get help but they really didn’t fit in that beautiful scene. It is somewhat the same case as people don’t like medicines but they take them to get cured.

I picked up some pebbles and gave a fruitless try to juggle them. The dull golden grass was looking so perfect and a small herb was beaming with dark purple flowers. Tiny but elegant. I came back towards the broken bottle and picked up the butterfly, placing it on my palm, bringing it near eyes to cherish its colors. A sudden puff of wind took away the poor thing as i stood there in awe, looking that diminutive mass of colors rolling on the road like a dry leaf.

That’s how the winds work, carrying out their ordeals, chanting the slogans of “No mercy”.